Song In Spite Of Myself

Never love with all your heart,

It only ends in aching;

And bit by bit to the smallest part

That organ will be breaking.

Never love with all your mind,

It only ends in fretting;

In musing on sweet joys behind,

too poignant for forgetting.

Never love with all your soul,

for such there is no ending;

though a mind that frets may find control,

and a shattered heart find mending.

Give but a grain of the heart's rich seed,

Confine some undercover,

And when love goes, bid him God-speed,

and find another lover.